


Poor Cicero

by Five_More_Minutes



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Hearing Voices, I did, Lonely Jesters, M/M, Madness, Seriously who decided to do my poor baby like this, it was me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Five_More_Minutes/pseuds/Five_More_Minutes
Summary: Any moment now.
Relationships: Cicero/Garnag
Kudos: 2





	Poor Cicero

Cicero sat across from mother. He hoped she was cozy in her coffin. Warmed by the blanket he’d draped over her fragile body. The only blanket they had left.

“Please stop.” He taps the back of his head on the wall. “Shut up.” He pleaded but it grew louder. “Shut up.” Mocking him. He rocked back and forth mumbling to himself begging the laughter to stop but it only seemed to get louder in his mind as the walls seemed to close in. The laughter mutated into high-pitched cackles that drew tears from his eyes. His head hurt but if he slammed it hard enough maybe he could put himself to sleep.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

His eyes never left the Night Mother’s. He wouldn’t say it out loud. He wouldn’t dare disrespect her that way cause she was their mother, their matron, and all he had left…until Garnag came back. But, this was all her fault. If only she would have picked a Listener. Someone, anyone! She could have picked him. She could have picked Rasha. Anyone!

“Mother please.” He whimpered. “I can’t. I can’t anymore.” He smelled copper and tried to focus on the squelching squishy sounds and sharp pain of skull meeting stone. “Your child needs you.”

There were no windows, no sundials to tell the time, but he’d felt it had been days. A never-ending cycle. First the silence a comfort that would smother him and snuff out anything and everything till it muted even his thoughts and feelings. Then the laughter. A welcome respite from the noiseless fake void but soon it too would grow louder and harsher till it left poor Cicero with a splitting headache, nauseous and crying for relief.

There had even been a time once before where he thought the void had finally come to claim him.

One second he’d thought he’d heard the Night Mothers voice, the next he heard nothing. Literally. It was as if all sound had been sucked out of the room. He’d tried snapping his fingers by his ear, clapping, stomping, nothing seemed to work. He couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat. It should have been a comfort, he lived his life for the void.

Instead, he’d screamed and screamed. Louder and harder still. But he couldn’t hear it. He broke everything he could get his hands on smashed it to pieces but no sound came. So he’d curled up, head in his hands, clawing at his scalp needing something anything to keep him grounded here for mother.

And then hands. Those strong wonderful hands had pulled his away. Had lifted his chin and when his wild eyes had met tired ones everything came rushing back.

Slowly a mantra of “Cicero Cicero Cicero” Had come to him and he’d gasped in relief. Tears freely running down his clawed cheeks as he clutched at his wonderful loyal Garnag.

“What’s happening?! Are you alright?” The orc had said. He’d pulled the Imperial into his lap and rocked them together. “I heard the screams. I thought there had been an attack.”

“No.” Cicero had sniffed “Only on my mind.” He’d giggled raw and pained. “I thought I was in the void. But it was wrong all wrong. I’m scared Garnag.”

The orc had kissed his brow hushing him. He’d peppered his cheeks and his nose like he was some wayward child. “We’re going to be OK.”

“What are we going to do?”

They stopped rocking, the orc’s hand clutched in his hair.

“We can leave my love. You and I. We’ll find a new home. Start a new life.”

Cicero pushed himself away looking up with wide frightened eyes. “What about the Night Mother? How will we move her without anyone seeing?”

He could feel the orc's heart beating so strongly in his chest. Strong unlike the weak Imperial. “We don’t Cicero. We leave her here.”

He hadn’t finished speaking before Cicero shook his head fiercely. “No. No! Have you lost your mind? We can’t just abandon our Matron.”

“We aren’t abandoning her. We’ll find a safe place and come back. Trust me I promise.” He’d tried to pull the small man back to him but Cicero broke free, crossing the room to sit at the Night Mother’s feet.

“I...I can’t. I can’t go. I’m the Keeper. Her Keeper. I can’t leave her vulnerable. If there’s ano-an attack I have to be here. I guard her with my life.”

Garnag ground his palms into his eyes and rubbed at his temples. “I know.” He sighed looking at the Imperial he’d loved so much. “I’ve barely seen you in weeks. You come out long enough for me to see that you’re alive and then you’re back here, locked away, with her.”

“It’s all I have.” He squeaked.

Garnag walked over to him. He placed his hands on his shoulders soft and slow and knelt down before him. “You have me. Sweet Cicero.” He smiled a small broken smile.

And Cicero smiled back just as small and just as broken but trembling at the corners. “ I…I can’t. Just leave me tonight. I need to be alone.”

Now with darkness blurring the edges of his vision and the soft squish squelch squish of his head on the wall muting the laughs. Cicero couldn’t help but remember the way the orc’s face had fallen. The way his brows had furrowed in pain he’d quickly hidden.

“But of course my Keeper. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The next morning Cicero had woken still at the foot of the Night Mothers coffin. A letter perched neatly next to a basket of bread and fruit.

Garnag went out for supplies and didn’t know when he’d be back.

But Cicero had faith in his loyal brother.

Garnag would be back soon. He knew he’d be back soon. Any second he’d walk through the door with food and flowers for mother and his big strong hand would pad the blows of Cicero’s skull to the wall. He’d hold him and kiss him and tell him stories like he always did now that Cicero could no longer leave the Sanctuary. He’d be back.

It’s only been three months.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me! I've had this on an old flash drive for forever. It's been mocking me. Teasing me. Comments and criticism welcome cause I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.


End file.
